by Lynn Kurland
“It was just a spell,” she protested. “I found it in a dream. As I said.”
“Aye, in my dream,” Soilléir said, apparently deciding on a laugh. “Good heavens, woman, you poached one of my spells out of my dreams.”
“Just recompense for your being so old that you need a nap in the afternoon,” Rùnach said with a snort.
“I have the feeling I’m going to soon need another one to make up for the first.”
Aisling would have wrapped her arms around herself but she found she didn’t need to. Rùnach had done the honors, pulling her close and giving her shelter she couldn’t deny she desperately needed.
But she didn’t miss the look he and Soilléir had exchanged.
“What?” she said, finding she was trembling.
“She’s going to need a rest, Rùnach,” Soilléir said quietly.
“Am I?” Aisling asked, finding that her teeth were chattering.
“Aisling, my dear girl, not only did you just use an immensely powerful spell, you filched it out of my damned head. You ought to go sit in the corner just for that alone.”
She winced. “I didn’t mean to.”
Soilléir shook his head, smiling. “I’m vexing you about it unnecessarily. I am happy to give you spells as you require them, but I have the feeling you’ll find them lying along your path at just the right moment without any aid from me.” He shot Rùnach a look. “You’d best keep any eye on this one.”
“I intend to.”
Aisling gestured toward her wheel. “And what am I to do with that?”
“I’ll have to give that some thought,” Soilléir said with a shiver. “Perhaps after supper.”
“Where I’ll likely be the main course,” Rùnach said grimly.
Soilléir only laughed. “I wish I could disagree, but I’m afraid that may be the case. Take care of that girl there, Rùnach. We’ll see to the rest during supper, where hopefully you won’t be on the menu.”
Aisling watched him go, then sighed and leaned her head against Rùnach’s shoulder.
“I’m tired.”
“I would imagine you are,” he agreed. “Those spells are powerful.”
“I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“The spell seemed to disagree.” He hugged her briefly, then kept his arm around her shoulders and led her toward the door. “A nap, love, then we’ll see what’s left of the world. I’m not sure after that beautiful piece of work that you’ll be able to remain anonymous much longer.”
Aisling decided she wouldn’t think about that until she absolutely had to. She looked over her shoulder once before they left the chamber. The spinning wheel was still hanging there where it would have been resting if it had had a base. It was painfully beautiful and definitely otherworldly.
Something she had fashioned out of Soilléir’s dreams.
She had the feeling her life had just been irrevocably changed.
Four
Rùnach’s head was spinning.
He supposed that might have been because he’d just been given a bracing slap by a woman he’d once fancied himself in love with. He rubbed his cheek thoughtfully as he watched Annastashia of Cothromaiche stalk out of the great hall, leaving him standing there in front of the hearth. Perhaps telling her that he was honestly, truly not interested in wedding her might have been better saved for another locale, but he had apparently lost many of his social skills over the past twenty years spent in the company of the king’s grandson.
It was also quite possible that informing Annastashia in no uncertain terms that he was no longer interested in her whilst in the middle of a dance set had been ill-advised. It had seemed like a reasonable idea at the time given that he was fairly certain if he’d done the same in private, she would have killed him.
He rubbed his cheek thoughtfully and walked across the great hall to the high table where a rather edible supper had once resided. He found an empty chair, collapsed onto it, then looked about himself to see the lay of the land. Astar was monopolizing Aisling, which didn’t surprise him. She was very lovely, as usual, if not a little pale. Then again, she had lifted a spell of essence changing from Soilléir’s dreams earlier that afternoon and changed sunlight into a spinning wheel, so perhaps she had cause. He sent Astar a warning look, then looked at Soilléir, who was watching him with amusement.
“One task seen to,” Soilléir said, his eyes twinkling. “I wonder if you’ll fare equally well with the others yet to come?”
Rùnach wiggled his jaw, and wondered if perhaps Annastashia had done damage to one of his teeth. At least it had been a slap and not a close-fisted blow. Or a spell. He found himself rather glad, all things considered, that he’d already eaten supper. He had the feeling he wouldn’t be able to eat any breakfast.
“I would have liked to have done that better,” he admitted, “though I’m not sure how.”
“I don’t think you could have,” Soilléir said. “I daresay it was a bit of a shock for her to find you alive, then yet another to find you in love with someone else.”
“I don’t think Annastashia ever loved me,” Rùnach said wryly. “The idea of me, perhaps, but no more.”
“You give yourself too little credit,” Soilléir said, “though perhaps more credit to my cousin than she deserves.” He toyed with his wineglass. “She’ll move on, I daresay. And it isn’t as if you’re planning on taking up residence here where you might torment her.”
Rùnach sighed deeply. “Nay, I’m not.” He looked at Soilléir frankly. “I think we should leave soon.”
“Tomorrow, I imagine. The world sleeps uneasily.”
“Nay, Léir, that’s you sleeping uneasily and that was this afternoon.”
Soilléir shifted. “I’m not sure I’m equal to thinking overlong on what happened this afternoon.” He shook his head. “What that woman can do . . . well, she surprises even me and I’m very rarely surprised.”
“The only thing that surprises me is that I have the arrogance to think I can aid her,” Rùnach said. “Me, with magic that’s not only unwieldy but not exactly what I would have it be. This task would be better suited to someone with more power.”
“Ofttimes, great ones aren’t called; simple souls are called to greatness,” Soilléir said with a smile. “But I wouldn’t say you are a simple soul, my friend.”
Rùnach studied the fire burning in one of the hearths, then looked at the man who had, he could freely admit, saved his life. “How do I thank you?”
“For what?” Soilléir asked mildly. “My collection of spells that could undo the world and everything in it, or putting you in the path of a woman who could unravel the same?”
Rùnach smiled. “Did you?”
“Might have.”
“Why?”
Soilléir shrugged. “Because I know her great-grandmother.”
Rùnach realized his mouth had fallen open. “What?”
“What I just said.”
“You can’t simply drop that tidbit into a conversation without giving me the details of it.”
“Can’t I?”
Rùnach laughed a little in spite of himself. “Léir, who don’t you know?”
“A woman daft enough to wed me,” Soilléir said solemnly. “And no decent matchmakers either.”
“No great loves during the centuries before I was born?”
“I never said that.”
Rùnach wasn’t sure he even dared speculate, so he settled for holding up his hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me for aid, though I appreciate the matchmaking you’ve apparently done for me.” He looked around himself to see who, if anyone, was listening. Astar was still monopolizing Aisling. Anna was definitely not eavesdropping; she was likely in the kitchens looking over a selection of carving knives for purposes he didn’t want to think on. He shifted to look at Soilléir. “I can’t imagine you don’t have thoughts about what lies before us.”
“I have thoughts,” Soilléir conceded, “but they’re not o
nes I would be comfortable sharing here. Let’s collect your lady and repair to the library. I can vouch for the privacy there.”
Rùnach nodded, then rose and walked behind the table until he stood behind Aisling’s chair. He looked at Annastashia’s brother.
“Do you mind if I abscond with my lady?” he asked politely.
Astar smiled faintly. “If you must.”
Rùnach pulled Aisling’s chair out for her, then took her hand. He nodded to Astar, then led Aisling from the great hall.
“Soilléir is willing to have a conference with us,” he said quietly. “I thought we’d best take advantage of it whilst he’s so unsettled from this afternoon.”
“Him?” she said incredulously. “What of me?”
“I believe you two might be sharing a few of the same feelings.” He walked with her for a bit before he dared speak again. “How are you, in truth?”
“I’m not sure how to begin answering that.”
He nodded, because he understood that very well. He had never used any of Soilléir’s spells, but just having them rattling around in his head was unsettling enough at times. At least he hadn’t begun his magical career with a spell that overwhelming.
Then again, he’d had a full morning of magic acting in unexpected ways, so perhaps he had a bit more sympathy for her than he might have otherwise. The thought of that problem being magnified inside Bruadair’s unfriendly borders was enough to give him pause.
He walked with Aisling into the library, then shut the door behind them. There were three chairs set there in front of the fire, waiting patiently. Soilléir was there already, standing in front of the hearth. Rùnach waited until Aisling was seated, then sat down himself. He didn’t imagine he was going to hear anything he hadn’t already discussed with Soilléir, but he supposed he wasn’t past being surprised.
“Well?” Rùnach asked. “Or dare I ask?”
Soilléir only smiled at him, then turned to Aisling. “I understand Queen Brèagha gave you copies of her paintings of Bruadair.”
Rùnach blinked, then smiled. “Subtle.”
Soilléir lifted his eyebrows briefly. “So I am. Aisling, might I look at them?”
She nodded, produced them from the satchel she was never without, then handed over the little folio. Soilléir looked through the paintings slowly and carefully. Rùnach glanced at Aisling to see if he could tell what she was thinking, but she was watching Soilléir peruse the queen’s artistic endeavors. He wouldn’t have called her expression wistful, though he wasn’t sure what else he could have termed it. All he knew was that Bruadair had been one of the most beautiful places he’d ever seen.
Before.
Soilléir finished, then tied the folio shut again. He was silent for quite some time, then he took a careful breath and nodded.
“It looked like that.”
“And you would know?” Aisling asked.
“Aye.”
Rùnach waited, but Soilléir, damn him, seemed perfectly content to say nothing else. “And?” he prodded.
Soilléir sat back and stretched out his legs, crossing his feet at the ankles. “And I think nothing more than what you and I have already discussed at length, my friend. If it were a lesser country that had been taken over by a man with no right to the throne, we could leave that to the inhabitants to sort in their own good time. But this is Bruadair and it isn’t just its inhabitants that are being affected.” He hesitated, then shook his head slowly. “I don’t like to interfere.”
“But you will here?” Aisling asked quietly.
“Will and already have,” Soilléir said, “more than I’m comfortable with. But I’m afraid the true work of the day will fall to you and Rùnach. And before you cross the borders, I think you must have a plan in place. I’m mostly here to listen.”
Rùnach had no doubt that was exactly what he intended to do unless pushed. He looked at Aisling. “What do you think, love?”
“I would say I was trying not to,” she said reluctantly, “but I must admit I’ve been thinking of little else as I’ve been spinning. I suppose it might be wise to begin in Beul to see how the fight is progressing.” She looked at him. “What do you suggest?”
“I think we need to see if we can’t find where Bruadair’s magic has gone,” he said. He knew he didn’t need to add that they would also do well to find out who had taken that magic, though perhaps that would be easier than he feared. All they would need to do was look for any black mages of note lingering in the area.
“And then?”
He looked at her steadily. “I also have the feeling that we might want to find out where that seventh dreamspinner came from.”
She looked positively ill. “Perhaps we could put that off for a bit.”
“Perhaps we could,” he agreed quietly. “Let’s first find our way to Beul and see what’s to be discovered there. Then we’ll plot our course.” He looked at Soilléir. “Given all your recent experience with crossing that border, perhaps in this at least you might offer a suggestion or two.”
Soilléir smiled briefly. “I suppose I could, for I have rather definite opinions on those borders and the perils associated with them.”
“Don’t tell me there’s a curse attached to Bruadair’s,” Rùnach said in disbelief. “What absolute rot.”
“Let’s call them safeguards instead,” Soilléir said. “In days past, they were rather benign safeguards, but I can’t say the same for what watches the border at present. It isn’t pleasant. I would venture to say it’s a fairly recent addition, if that eases your mind any. Our good Aisling could walk across the border at any spot and Bruadair would only welcome her, though the land would indeed take notice of her entry.”
“And would it tell potential enemies the same?” Rùnach asked.
Soilléir shrugged. “That hasn’t been my experience so far, but I’m a very small player in this drama and easily overlooked. I can’t guarantee that there might be those watching who would find Aisling reentering the country to be upsetting to their plans, no matter where she did it. I’m not sure Bruadair has the means to prevent that.”
Rùnach suppressed the urge to shake his head. He’d been doing too much of that recently. “You speak of the country as if it had a mind of its own.”
“It is an unusual place,” Soilléir conceded. “The magic is connected to the land in a way that I would say isn’t replicated in very many other places.” He smiled faintly. “I know far less about it than I would like to claim, but it doesn’t lend itself to outside speculation. That so much of the magic has been drained from the country says much about whoever managed the feat.”
Rùnach supposed he might not want to think too hard about just who that mage might be. If Acair was behind the theft, then he had grown powerful indeed. Then again, his bastard brother had always been more powerful than Rùnach had ever been comfortable with.
“But if Bruadair knows who crosses the borders and unpleasant mages will possibly know the same, then how will we manage to get back inside?” Aisling asked. “And when you were in Bruadair, how did you manage to move about so freely? Or was I one of the ones still asleep?”
Soilléir smiled. “I can’t say that you weren’t still blissfully unaware of many things at the time, but even had you not been, you wouldn’t have noticed me.”
“I noticed your clothes,” she said with a shudder. “Blindingly gaudy, those.”
Soilléir laughed a little. “One does what one must to accomplish the task at hand.”
“But surely clothing wasn’t enough,” Aisling said. “Was it?”
“Nay, Aisling,” Soilléir said seriously, “It wasn’t. I took the precaution of hiding my magic.”
“Oh,” she said, sounding rather relieved. “Then I’ve nothing to worry about there.”
Rùnach couldn’t help but look at Soilléir. It was so seldom that he had the opportunity to see the man looking anything but perfectly at ease that he paused to savor the moment. Soilléir scow
led, then softened his expression as he turned back to Aisling.
“I’m afraid, Aisling, that that isn’t as true as you might wish.”
“But I have no magic,” she protested. “At least not anything substantial enough to need hiding.”
“There’s a new spinning wheel fashioned of sunlight in our chief spinner’s solar that would disagree.”
Aisling rubbed her arms. “I think that was an aberration.”
“Some aberration,” Rùnach said, half under his breath.
Soilléir opened his mouth, then shut it. “I would have to agree with Rùnach. Aisling, I think as you have been discovering over the past few fortnights, you have more gifts than you suspected. Magic seems to be one of them, whether you care to accept it or not. All I can tell you is that if I am able to see the echo of it in you, unfriendly eyes might see that and more once you’re on your home soil. It is best to hide it until the time comes when it can no longer remain hidden. We should choose the proper spell, of course.”
Rùnach found two pairs of eyes on him. He held up his hands quickly. “I only have Uachdaran of Léige’s spell for the same. I have no idea how it would hold inside Bruadair.”
“Did you get that from the shameless king of Neroche?” Soilléir asked with a smile.
“Miach could only dream of having this one,” Rùnach said with a snort. “So, nay, this isn’t the usual one Uachdaran leaves lying about for those who would like to feel they had plundered his coffers for the exclusive and forbidden. His Majesty gave this to me on my way out his gates a fortnight ago and made sure I knew what I’d been given, though I have the feeling it was for Aisling’s benefit, not mine.”
Aisling smiled weakly. “He is very kind.”
“He would like you stop whatever’s running under his floors and through his dreams,” Rùnach said seriously, “but, aye, he is very kind. To you.” He looked at Soilléir. “Do you care to hear the spell? I’m fairly confident there is nothing attached to it that will destroy me for sharing it.”
Soilléir nodded, then listened thoughtfully. “Very powerful, indeed, and something you might want to keep close. I hate to think of what you could send plunging into the depths of the earth with that to hand. But given the rather unusual properties of Bruadair, I would suggest, if I could make a suggestion, that you use something of mine instead.”